


Lavender or Chitauri?

by nataliaromanovar0gers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: F/F, Requested from Tumblr, Tried to be fluff, Tried to be smut, i just want agatha to top me okay, so this is how we're gonna do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 06:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30017763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliaromanovar0gers/pseuds/nataliaromanovar0gers
Summary: The year is 2012 and the Chitauri is invading New York; meanwhile, in your castle, Agatha is invading your space.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Lavender or Chitauri?

You just got word of a space invasion in the Big Apple and instantly looked for your other half. The castle walls are dimly lit, far too dark to your liking. You can feel the pull of dark magic in front of you. The feeling lingers on your skin, the way its owner’s scent always finds its way to your nose. **Lavender.** You smile at the prospect of smelling lavender once again. You walk towards the gazebo that seems to be the only illuminated part of your residence, unsure of what to find.

Come for me.

The note your beloved left on your dresser shines with **purple mists** , fully highlighting the text when you touch it. It’s like it knows you’re holding it, wanting to be seen. 

You reach the gazebo, expecting at least a table filled with food - for date night. Your girlfriend after all likes to spice things up in this 200-year-old relationship. To your pleasure, the only spicy thing in this place is her - all dolled up and wearing a **purple spaghetti strap dress**. She met your gaze, unwavering and breathtaking, and you knew instantly that the dress is the only thing she’s wearing tonight.

Agatha Harkness set her glass down on the table and approached you the way a predator stalks its prey. You gulped, trying to regain your senses. Looking at her, after all this time, still feels like staring at a goddess who walked this earth. She reached for your hand and the sparks traveled down your spine. 

“You’re here,” she said with her voice that can make anybody weak. The way her words reach your ears intoxicates you, to the point of needing to take a large breath every time. It feels like she’s putting you under her spell, even when she does not mean to.

“You said to come,” the only reply you can muster as you try not to drown in the blue hues of her eyes.

She reaches for your ponytail and says “such a good girl,” before pulling it down. You try to distract yourself from the heat forming in the lower center of your body. You looked at the table where her glass is, only to now notice that there’s no food present. 

“What are we going to eat?” You can feel her hands combing your hair, not missing the chance to touch your nape lightly. “There’s no food here,” you continue. 

She leads you to the table and all you can do is follow. This is Agatha, your Agatha. You’ll follow her to the ends of heaven and hell; and knowing what her interests are, you probably will. “We’re eating tonight, alright.” She remarks with a smirk on her face.

You can feel the table behind you as Agatha situations herself between your legs. You try to form coherent thoughts only to mutter something so inconsequential to her.

“Do you know that New York is being attacked by these Chitauri monsters?” 

Agatha bit her lip and looked at you like she’s hungry _for you_. She caressed your face as she replies, “sweetheart, the God of Mischief can handle himself.”

“But the people?” Her hands now roam all over you.

“...can defend for themselves,” she tucks the hair blocking your face, “if they’re strong enough.” She places a light kiss on your cheek before nibbling on your ear. A small moan escapes your lips as you hold on to the table for support. 

Agatha starts to place light kisses on your neck before whispering “You’re not going to choose those monsters over me, right, babydoll?” Her hands working the zipper of your pants. 

This is indeed your Agatha - an image of confidence with a dash of insecurity. As if 200 years of loyalty and devotion is not enough, she needs more. Always more.

You took her face in your hands, once again looking at her bewitching blue orbs. “No,” you replied barely a whisper. A small smile forms with her lips before biting it. God, you love this woman. “Besides, they don’t smell like **lavender**.” She closes the distance between your lips and hers. Soft then hard. Light then deep. Always hungry. Always more.

  
  



End file.
